Destiny through the Crosshairs
by Springbox
Summary: Some choose there futures. Others have it chosen for them. While others still, have it chosen for them but do things their way. This is the story I had running for my head when playing Skyrim for the first time.


Destiny through the Crosshairs 

"When asked if I saw him that day I answer truly that I do not know. I do not know _who_ I saw but I know what I saw. Whether it was man or divine that fought that day matters not, the result was the same and at our expense"

A defeated Thalmor soldier

Chapter 1: Remember

There was a festive vibe in the air, just like there always was this time of year in the city of Solitude. The ancient city was beginning to bustle with people, with energy as citizens went about decorating their fine city for the upcoming fanfare. Chains of red mountain flowers linking each old stone clad building with their graceful arches billowed softy with the cool morning breeze. The enchanted lanterns which lit the streets up at night with their soft golden rays were petering out as the sun rose over the city's eastern wall basking Solitude in its warming embrace. The local merchants were today setting up stalls outside their stores as well as keeping their front doors wide open to welcome the would-be customer while peddlers from elsewhere fought, no violently of course, for space at the most opportune places to catch the eye of spare coin. Food vendors in particular were offering free samples to the masses to whet the palate with their wide variety of delicacies on offer; be it the hearty horker loaf, buttered mudcrab or salted seafood from the northern holds, the wholesale selection from Whiterun - the breadbasket of Skyrim with its succulent game meats, fresh fish and harvested labours of breads and vegetables to the southern hold's deadly pleasures of the sweet tooth; mainly their sweet-rolls, honeynut treats, boiled creame cakes and tasty ales. At the same time the clothes merchants were offering free fittings for items bought, some even displaying their most alluring attire from far and wide on mannequins for all to see threatening the pockets of any passerby husband or father whose female companion laid hungry eyes on whatever she desired. Executioners' Squire now playing a different part in peoples' lives than in generations past as its purpose now was to entertain the masses with fine 'executions' of art, courtesy of the Bard's College. Nothing, not even a single window sill was left out of the merriment as beautiful wildflowers were placed proudly on their surface. All the while the city's guards stood relaxed but ready, their uniforms clean and presentable and their swords shining, sharp ...and waiting for any trouble maker on this most important of days.

As all the hubbub carried on, at the Winking Skeever where rows of chairs were slowly being laid out carefully in perfect viewing of the squire before it sat two rather odd men. Odd only in that they were not helping to organise on this most celebrated day, instead they sat quite contently sipping some brandy whilst watching those around them with faraway looks on their faces.

"Before all this started could you even have fathomed what fate had in store for him?" spoke the first man with a bemused tone as he rubbed his stumbled jaw, his rich accented voice only a murmur.

His companion remained quiet for a moment as he raised his glass to his mouth for another sip before setting his glass down on the table next to him and spoke in a slightly rough but cultured deep voice. "Of course not. I was told it was all a myth - an old wives' tale, a fable like fair taxes, a smart noble or sex with without commitment and every other kind of fantastical fairytale shit there was to hear. Then again they believed a sweat tooth while with child bores a daughter, so what in the nine gods did they know."

"Yes.. well, we have the luxury of time to laugh about it now but we ourselves were none the wiser back then even more so for myself." laughed the first man, thinking back to all the preconceived truths of old. Sometimes he could not help but think himself a fool but you live and learn.

"Maybe so my old imperial friend but all the same it truly is quite the tale is it not? A story the bards still write passionately about but alas now only from the words of those before them." replied the Imperial's friend with a shake of his head as he took another drink.

"Indeed. It is a bittersweet honour we have, to watch all he worked so hard for but not have him here with us to see how far his vision has come" the Imperial spoke forlornly as he eyed a few children of various races and indeed a few mixed ones running around without a care in the world, such innocence and acceptance that just was not there once not so very long ago.

With a heavy sigh the second man turned to his companion who was still looking that the children and spoke with a heavy voice. "Well that is why we are here to make sure his vision is upheld but I'll be damned if I don't miss the bastard" he spoke before he patted the other man's shoulder.

Finally breaking his gaze the Imperial turned back to his friend and grinned slightly as a thought occurred to him. "I know but I think he would balk at some of the things that are common place now. I mean could you imagine his reaction to say... the annual rendition of his more noteworthy exploits the college puts on every festive session." he laughed, resting his chin on the palm of his right hand.

"He really had no love for bards did he?" the second man chuckled loudly as he threw his shaved head back with mirth of his old friend.

"No, he really hated them..well the men at least" the Imperial agreed calming down while his Nord friend continued to revel in remembrance.

"What was it he called them again?" the Nord asked after he had controlled his mirth and wiped his eyes dry with the back of his fingers.

"A shower of talented milk drinking bastards with too much time on their hands" the Imperial supplied causing both men to break into heavy laughter once more.

"Well you two gentlemen seem to be enjoying yourselves and it's not even midday yet.. far from it in fact" came the amused voice of a woman behind them. She was holding a tray with nothing but a few red mountain flowers, most likely for decor purposes, on it as she stood over the two well dressed men. The Imperial was dressed in a comfortable and expensive overcoat of royal blue with a silk white shirt underneath tucked into black trousers which in-turn were placed neatly into fine black satin boots. While his Nordic friend was dressed almost as similarly but with no overcoat and his shirt was cream in colour and his satin boots were a light brown matching his fine gloves.

"I see no reason why not too Fayla my dear. It is a day of festivities is it not and there's no rule of when one should start." stated the Imperial whose head raised and turned to address the young Nord woman with a grin. She really was a fine lass the imperial decided, she was wearing the finest tavern garb a gentlemen could ask for; a dark sleeveless green dress, a colour which mirrored her eyes, that ran to her kneecaps and had a revealing slit showing just the right amount of skin on her right tight topped off with a tight golden brown bodice and matching boots. It was sexy and alluring with its snug fit that complimented her generous feminine form, showing off all of the girl's fine curves especially her fine bust but also retained some tasteful modesty, only showing enough skin to keep the active imagination going. All in all the clothing did the pale skinned Nord a service.

Rolling her eyes Fayla stared back at one of the characters of Solitude which made the city a true delight to be apart off. He was practically an institution of Solitudes'..no Skyrim's history all on his own, well him and his friend but whereas the latter was reserved and quite with not much known of him other than was told the former was an open book regarding himself. She would be lying if she denied that she wasn't attracted to the man, he really was a handsome man with his dark, lustrous hair which the sun kissed without ill-favour running to the length of his broad shoulders. His skin was slightly dark in tone, unlike her own, also young and smooth in complexion complimenting nicely with his hazel eyes.

"Clearly" Fayla deadpanned with a smirk ghosting her full lips before turning her pale blue eyes to the Imperial's drinking partner. He was not your typical stereotype Nord, not by any stretch; no tall muscular war machine with blue eyes and a proud beard with a great-sword on his back but someone short, shorter than her frame of 5.8, and slime too with olive green eyes with a clean shaven face to match that of his hair, which if longer would definitely be blond so there was that at least.

"So what are you laughing about, it too early for the bards and the children haven't been annoying you again have they?" she enquired, turning her gaze to the group of younglings playing tag by the performing block.

"Memories and for your understanding it is not I who has issue with children it is my esteemed partner" the Imperial stated with a motion of his head towards his companion.

"No crime to dislike the little bastards" was the mutter heard in reply.

"You're all heart, cannot imagine why no lucky lady has not bespoken you for their husband... what with all your warmth of a horker's backside" came the sarcastic, but playful, rejoinder from the Imperial as he wiggled his eyebrows at Falya who brought her hand to her mouth to suppress her giggles.

Seeing the Nord's scowl Fayla cleared her throat and decided to change the subject. "Speaking of bards I gotten my hands on the newest play for this year, it truly is quite the piece" she gushed with excitement. She had reason to as well, well at least she believed she did, it was quite the rousing account of the hero to whom this day was for. It had everything; war, romance, regret, tragedy, sacrifice, betrayal and hope so to think that all what is said it real makes it all the more relatable and exciting.

"Oh really and what have the word smiths conjured up this year? More over-romanticized drivel of war and love. Off the flawless hero saving the world" the Imperial asked dismissively with a slight shake of his head. In his time he truly believed he had heard it all and most of it bad.

"Not this time! This is _really_ good, it does a good of blending creative thinking with what really happened and you two would know" the young Nord replied in defence.

"Fine hand it here" requested the Imperial waving his hand for the play.

Reaching into hip satchel she fished out the folded piece of parchment and placed it in the man's hand.

Opening the parchment the Imperial cleared his throat and began reading aloud...

_"It was so long ago, that none live to tell. That our reckoning would come with first snow to fall on that cold Sundas morn. Prophesy foretold with our blood spilled create, a countdown of days which will lead to the end. Came the pretender, a heart of resolve, he ghosted these streets, his purpose unknown. With the voice of the Gods he unleashed unknown hell, plunging his homeland into misery and despair. Ulfic, oh Ulfic you pretender of Kings. You name will live on just as your King's..." _

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_Author's Notes: Well that's chapter 1, enjoy._


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